


Greek Life

by barbaricyawp



Series: Socratic Method [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Absolute Trash, Gangbang, Homophobic Language, I'm not kidding this is so different for me I almost don't want to post it, M/M, Public Sex, bros, fraternities, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4651464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbaricyawp/pseuds/barbaricyawp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is trash. Eames is in a fraternity. That fraternity gangbangs Arthur. Absolute trash. Don't read this. Because it's trashy trash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greek Life

**Author's Note:**

> This was definitely inspired by porn. Consider this the college fuck fest AU.
> 
> I came really close to not posting this, I'll have you know.

Eames doesn’t spend much time with his fraternity. He’s mainly there for the idea of networking and to occasionally release the chav in himself. Or the bro, since he’s in the states now. He can live with being a little bro-y. He likes bro-tanks and flat bill hats. He’ll grow out of it eventually.

But he finds the simultaneously homosocial and homophobic environment unnerving. (He took a class on Sociology and Gender last year. He knows Judith Butler, alright? He’s not an idiot.) No one there knows he’s bisexual so he’s allowed in on the joke.

His brothers are pretty much obsessed with homosexuality and this seems to be a trend across Greek life. They pretend to hump each other and affect lisps. A weird type of constant satire.

It’s not that Eames doesn’t like his fraternity. The boys are rambunctious and loyal, two of Eames’ favorite qualities in friends. He actually thinks the homo jokes are pretty funny, once he realized this boys have no idea what a homosexual is. And they host excellent parties.

Tonight’s party is hosted mostly in the basement where the gents have created a stadium from couches stacked on pallets. It dominates most of the room except for the TV which they use for COD, movies, and sports. There’s also an unvoiced expectation that the room can be used for sex, but Eames has never taken part in it.

He’s not crazy about watching porn with men he’s not planning on sleeping with. And he can’t imagine having sex with a women with those boys in the room.

SOC1020 is proving to be a bitch this semester. He talked to his professor and she let him have unlimited extensions on his test so long as he remains in the building. Even on the open book tests this is hard. The last one included twelve pages of multiple choice and three essay prompts. It took him five hours.

So he arrives to the party a little after midnight, having missed the first bus. He can hear raucous laughter and “I Love College” blasting through the floor. Wasting no time, Eames drops his backpack on the couch and goes downstairs. It smells like beer and cologne. It’s a scent Eames has come to enjoy.

Once downstairs, it takes him a moment to realize what’s going on.

He’s stumbled into these parties before. They get a girl, usually one of the boys’ girlfriends, and…watch her have sex with people. Usually they record it and put it on YouJizz or something. Sometimes they take turns, sometimes the boyfriend just fucks her. 

Usually it’s a big deal and everyone goes to bed feeling a lot more masculine. Eames never stays.

This party is different, though. There are fewer of them, for one. Everyone is standing. And the person being fucked over a chair isn’t a girl at all. He’s a boy. Rather, a man. Though as narrow and smooth as a girl.

One of the gents catch Eames’ entry and starts a mass excitement over it.

“You made it,” he says and slams a hand on his back. Yusef usually likes these kinds of parties. Eames knows he isn’t gay. It just seems that he likes this level of hedonism.

It brings a whole new meaning to the idea of “Greek life.”

Yusef’s a biochemistry major—the most difficult major pursued by anyone in the frat. Eames is a sociology major. They’re the only ones not in business or management and they get a lot of shit for it. Last year someone was in engineering, but he graduated.

All the ruckus makes the man over the chair turn his head towards Eames.

Eames recognizes him immediately and experiences the most severe cognitive dissonance in his life. He feels as if he went into a theater expecting a monster truck rally and got opera instead.

It’s Arthur. The TA for his PHYS 1010 class. Eames has found him attractive since day one, but doesn’t know much about him other than he writes in architect’s print and doesn’t grade too hard. Eames hasn’t even talked to him, but he knows he’s a surprisingly deep voice.

Arthur doesn’t seem to recognize him, though. Because his turns his head straight again and he shifts his stance. Legs wider. Eames can see everything.

The brother finishes up and the music turns over to “Blurred Lines.” A beanbag is produced and Arthur is flung over it.

“Yusef, you’ve got the next go.”

Yusef shakes his head. “No offense, but I’m quite alright. Eames? You wanna take mine?”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t want to fuck his attractive TA in front of the boys. 

But he really, really does. 

So he looks to Arthur. “You okay with that? Want to be sure this is consensual and all that.”

Arthur laughs. Doesn’t say anything else. He’s wearing a t-shirt and shoes, but pulls his t-shirt off now. So he’s naked and wearing trainers. Eames can’t really say no at this point.

Eames has never had public sex before, but he can definitely see the appeal now. It seems fair for him to leave his trousers on, but open.

They aren’t even using a condom. Jesus Christ. Arthur’s hole is flushed from use. But tight. A streak of come makes its way down Arthur’s thigh and onto the pleather of the beanbag. 

The angle with Arthur basically lying on the floor would basically force Eames to do push-ups over Arthur to get inside him. He starts with kneeling instead. Pushes himself right in between Arthur’s legs and gets to work.

Arthur’s angle is worse than Eames’. He can’t get enough leverage to rock himself forward and back. So Eames takes his hips and pumps them for him. Arthur goes lax and lets himself be moved. Doesn’t protest against Eames nearly pulling out or the hard slam of him going back in.

It’s a good feeling. Controlling Arthur like this. Almost like masturbating, but using a person’s body instead of his hand.

A brother hands him a beer. Just to get a rise out of them he chugs it while he pumps into Arthur. They laugh and Eames pours the rest of his beer over the small of Arthur’s back. It dribbles to the side and down along the seal of their hips. The boys splash their own beer onto them. They’ve gotten more drunk since Eames started.

Arthur just moans a little and angles his hips higher up.

He’s got a bit of hip, Arthur. Enough to give Eames a good handle. And Arthur’s body is so good. He’s tight and slick. When he flexes around Eames, pinpricks of pleasure dance up Eames’ spine. So sharp and good and hot it’s nearly painful. The kind of intense pleasure you shy away from, but desperately need.

Arthur is mostly quiet, but under the roar of his fraternity brothers Eames can hear Arthur’s soft noises. High for his usual timbre.

He’s whining, Eames realizes. And he needs him to be louder.

He grinds into Arthur, no longer prioritizing his own pleasure. Lifts his hips up the way he would with a boyfriend. Pauses when Arthur’s gasp rises and hits that spot again. Adjusts until it seems he’s grinding right against it.

Arthur’s rotating his hips now. Fists clenched. He’s holding his breath. He’s writhing under Eames and when Eames pushes him still, he writhes even harder. But he’s not making any sound.

Well, Eames can’t have that. He’s trying to make him sing, after all.

In one quick move, Eames presses Arthur flat against the bean bag. The angle is deeper and Eames’ weight bores into him hard and steady. For a moment, Eames doesn’t move. Just appreciates the tight flex of Arthur around him.

As a testament to Arthur’s composure, he hasn’t made an audible sound yet. But his hips are moving up in sharp jerks and his face is buried in the bean bag. Eames suspects he’s biting at it to keep silent.

Eames loops an arm under Arthur’s hips. Face down, ass up. It’s probably a beautiful sight. Eames almost hopes someone is filming this. So he can see the slope of Arthur’s back and the slutty rise of his ass.

“You like this, don’t you?” Eames growls into Arthur’s ear.

Arthur’s unexpected reply: “Obviously.”

His voice, though rattling each time Eames moves into him, is level and cool. It gets on Eames’ nerves.

“Good. Because I’m not going to stop until I’ve got you screaming.” To make his point he snaps his hips forward and stays there.

Eames takes a handful of Arthur’s hair and yanks up, keeping up the pace. He plans to stay here in this position. Arthur’s head forced up. Eames deep inside him, not moving his hips.

“Ask for it,” Eames growls into his ear. The gents can hear, but it doesn’t really seem to matter. “Ask for me to move.”

Arthur shudders from his shoulders to his hips. “Please move.”

“Ask me to fuck you.”

Arthur rocks his hips from side to side, trying to get leverage. Eames grips his hair harder and yanks his head back so he can see their audience. Arthur gives another shudder and makes a lovely, needy sound.

“I want to hear you beg, boy.”

Arthur doesn’t say a word and Eames doesn’t move. He’s losing the amusement of his brothers, but this matters more. Making Arthur beg is the most important thing in the world.

But after a few moments of this, Eames has finally reached Arthur’s breaking point. He’s making soft sounds with each push. He’s trying not to make noise, but fails. He’s audibly whining now. Even murmurs a soft, “please, please, please” over and over again. Sex babble. And Eames eats it up.

It’s good and it’s tight and Arthur comes shuddering and screaming. The boys can’t see Arthur come, but Eames can feel it. He tightens around Eames hard. And Eames pulls out to come on his back.

It’s not an impressive cumshot by any means. But he drools enough to slide down Arthur’s asscrack. Eames gives his cheek a good, condescending pat and then stands up, raising his arms to the boys cheering. Masculinity affirmed.

Arthur lies on the bean bag while another gent gets ready to go. His cheek presses against the bean bag. For a moment, Eames thinks he’s in a dopey fucked out haze. But the eyes are too clear. He’s smirking.

“Top marks, Mr. Eames.”


End file.
